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The castellain looked at him queerly； as though Guthwulf had suddenly asked which direction was up。 〃Why？ Because of the wars and looting on their border； the chaos of the Frostmarch。 And the White Foxes； of course。〃
〃The White Foxes？〃
〃Surely you know of the White Foxes； Lord。〃 The castellain was almost openly skeptical。 〃Surely； since they came to the aid of the army you manded at Naghmund。〃
Guthwulf looked up； pawing reflectively at his upper lip。 〃The Norns； you mean？〃
〃Yes； Lord。 White Foxes is the name the mon people give them； because of their corpse…pale skin and foxy eyes。〃 He suppressed a shudder 〃White Foxes。〃
〃But what of them； man？〃 the earl demanded。 When there was no immediate answer； his voice began to rise。 〃What do they have to do with my harvest； Aedon shake your soul？〃
〃Why； they are ing south； Earl Guthwulf；〃 the castellain said； surprised。 〃They are leaving their nest in Naglimund's ruins。 People who must sleep in the open have seen them walking the hills by darkness； like ghosts。 They travel at night； a few at a time； and always moving southward…heading for the Hayholt。〃 He looked around nervously； as if only now realizing what he had said。 〃ing here。〃
After the castellain left； Guthwulf sat a long time drinking from a stoup of wine。 He picked up his helm to polish it； staring at the ivory tusks that lifted from the crest； then put it back down； untouched。 His heart was not in the task； even though the king expected him to lead the Erkynguard into the field a few days hence and his armor had not been thoroughly looked…to since the siege of Naglimund。 Things had not gone right at all since the siege。 The castle seemed ghost…ridden； and that damnable gray sword and its two blade…brothers haunted his dreams until he almost feared to go to bed； to fall asleep。。。
He set the wine down and stared at the flickering candle； then felt his melancholy spirits lift a little。 At least he had not been imagining things。 The countless odd night…sounds； the untethered shadows in the halls and mons； Ellas' vanishing midnight visitors； all these and more had begun to make the Earl of Utanyeat doubt his own good mind。 When the king had forced him to touch that cursed sword； Guthwulf had bee sure that； whether by sorcery or no； some crack in his thoughts had let madness in to destroy him。 But it was no whim； no fancy…the castellain had confirmed it。 The Norns were ing to the Hayholt。 The White Foxes were ing。
Guthwulf pulled his knife from his sheath and sent it whickering end over end into the door。 It stuck； quivering in the heavy oak。 He shuffled across the chamber and pulled it loose； then threw again； fetching it out with a swift jerk of his hand。 The wind shrilled in the trees outside。 Guthwulf bared his teeth。 The knife thumped into the wood once more。
Simon lay suspended in a sleep that was not sleep； and the voice in his head spoke on。
〃。 。 。 You see； Hakatri； my quietest son； perhaps that was where our troubles began。 I spoke a moment ago of the Two Families； as though we twain were the only survivors of Venyha Do'sae； but it was the boats of the Tinukeda'ya that brought us across the Great Sea。 Neither we Zida'ya nor our brethren the Hikeda'…ya would have lived to reach this land had it not been for Ruyan the Navigator and his people…but to our shame； we treated the Ocean Children as badly here as we had in the garden…lands beyond the sea。 When most of Ruyan's folk at last departed； going forth into this new land on their own； that； I think； was when the shadow first began to grow。 Oh； Hakatri； we were mad to bring those old injustices to this new place； wrongs that should have died with our home in the Uttermost East。 。。。〃
The clown mask bobbed before Tiamak's eyes； gleaming with firelight； covered with strange plumes and horns。 For a moment he felt confused。 How had the Wind Festival e so soon？ Surely the annual celebration of He Who Bends the Trees was months away？ But here was one of the wind…clowns bowing and dancing before him…and what other explanation could there be for the way Tiamak's head ached but an excessive intake of fern beer； a sure sign that Festival Days were here？
The wind…clown made a soft clicking noise as it tugged at something in Tiamak's hand。 What could the clown be doing？ Then he remembered。 It wanted his coin； of course： everyone was expected to carry beads or pieces of money for He Who Bends the Trees。 The clowns gathered these glittering tributes in clay jars to shake at the sky； making a rattling； roaring noise that was the chief music of the Festival…a noise that brought the good will of the Tree…Bender； so that he would keep harmful winds and floods at bay。
Tiamak knew he should let the clown have his coin…wasn't that what he had brought it for？…but still； there was something about the insinuating way the wind…clown pawed at him that made Tiamak unfortable。 The clown's mask winked and leered； Tiamak； fighting a growing sense of unease； clutched the metal more tightly。 What was wrong。。。 ？
As his vision suddenly cleared； his eyes widened in horror。 The bobbing clown mask became the chitinous face of a ghant； hanging only a scant cubit above his boat； suspended by a vine from a branch that overhung the river。 The ghant was prodding gently with its insectile claw； patiently trying to poke Tiamak's knife loose from his sleep…sweaty grasp。
The little man shouted with disgust and threw himself back toward the stern of his flatboat。 The ghant rasped and clicked its mouth…feelers； waving a plated foreleg as chough trying to reassure him that it had all been a mistake。 A moment later Tiamak swept up his steering pole； swinging it broadside so that he caught the ghant before it could scurry back up the vine。 There was a loud clack and the ghant flew out across the river； legs curled like a singed spider。 It made only a small splash as it disappeared into the green water。
Tiamak shuddered in repugnance as he waited for it to bob back to the surface。 A chorus of dry clacking came from above his head and he looked up quickly to see half a dozen more ghants； each the size of a large monkey； staring down at him from the safety of the upper branches。 Their expressionless black eyes glittered。 Tiamak had little doubt that if they guessed he could not stand； they would be upon him in a moment； still； it seemed strange for ghants to attack any full…grown human； even an injured one。 Strange or not； he could only hope they didn't realize how weak he really was； or what sort of injuries the bloody bandage on his leg signified。
〃That's right； you ugly bugs！〃 he shouted； brandishing his steering pole and knife。 Hi'i own cry made his head hurt。 Wincing； he prayed silently that he didn't faint from the exertion； if he did； he felt sure he would never wake up。 〃e on down and I'll give you the same lesson I did your friend！〃
The ghants chittered at him with offhanded malice； as much as to say that there was no hurry； if they didn't get him today； some other ghants would soon enough。 Crusty； lichen…dotted carapaces scraped against the willow branches as the ghants dragged themselves higher up i